Urn Burial by Kerry Greenwood Read Free Book Online

had first appeared.
    Mrs Reynolds was taken aback. ‘How on earth did you know about Dingo Harry?’
    ‘I have my methods,’ said Phryne, sipping Moe¨t.
    ‘You think he sent these missives?’
    ‘He might have. He and Tom had a terrible fight about him slipping through our fences and snaring dingoes on our grounds. I don’t know why it upset Tom so much but it did. He bellowed at Harry and Harry bellowed back and it almost came to blows.’
    ‘Leaving aside the unlikelihood of a swaggie getting hold of typing paper, why should he call Tom a cheat and a swindler?’
    ‘No reason. It’s not Dingo Harry I’m thinking 43
    of, though he seems most likely for the snare. In fact I wish it was Dingo Harry; he’s a madman and they’d just lock him up for life. He doesn’t matter. It’s Jack, you see. Jack Lucas.’ Evelyn wrung her hands.
    ‘The tall blond boy? Why should he call Tom a cheat?’
    ‘Jack Lucas’s father and Tom were partners in a business. Tom got out before old Mr Lucas put all his money into the Megatherium Trust. It crashed and Lucas was ruined – went into a decline and finally put a bullet through his head. It was terrible, such a scandal, you must remember it. His wife died of grief and everything was sold up and poor Jack, who’s been to a good school and educated to go to the university, has to get a job as an auction clerk and he’s awfully unhappy about it. And the really terrible thing about it was that he asked Tom for a loan, to put him through university and pay his fees and so on, promising faithfully to pay him back, and Tom refused. He lost his temper, poor silly man, you know how men are. He said something about like father, like son, and that he wasn’t a safe investment. Then Jack said that all Tom had done in his life was produce second-rate books and the only wisdom he’d shown was in marrying a rich wife. Oh, dear, there was a dreadful row and it took me days to talk them around. But Tom still won’t lend Jack the money.’
    ‘Can’t you?’ asked Phryne. ‘It’s your money, after all.’
    44
    Mrs Reynolds was so shocked that Dot had to pour her another glass of Moe¨t.
    ‘Miss Fisher . . . all that I own is my husband’s.
    I can’t think of acting against his wishes,’ she said as stiffly as three glasses of champagne in quick succession would allow. Phryne sighed.
    ‘Of course, how silly of me. So. Jack Lucas might have written them. Yes. It’s possible. The spelling is too good to be really illiterate. One would think that someone who doesn’t know how to spell ‘‘bastard’’ or ‘‘deserve’’ would not know how to spell ‘‘swindler’’ or ‘‘money’’. However, what use is Tom dead to Jack Lucas?’
    ‘Tom’s left Jack a thousand pounds in his will.
    He wants to make up for the loss, you know, but he feels terribly guilty and that makes him tetchy.
    What’s more Jack approached him the wrong way, asking for an advance on his inheritance, and Tom called him a beggar eager to wear dead men’s shoes. Oh dear, oh dear, what am I to do?’
    ‘The easiest thing to do is give Jack the money.
    If that doesn’t suit, Tom should go to town and change his will and make sure that everyone knows that he’s changed it. Then there’ll be no reason to kill him.’
    ‘Oh, no, he’ll never do that. He won’t go back on his word and he told old Lucas that he’d provide for his son.’ Evelyn set down her glass unsteadily.
    ‘Let him provide for the boy, then,’ said Phryne in her most reasonable tone.
    ‘Not after that dreadful quarrel.’
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    ‘Perhaps I could talk to him,’ Phryne continued.
    Mrs Reynolds put out a hand to stop her as if fearing that her excitable guest was about to leap out of bed and beard the Master of the House in his den.
    ‘Oh, no, he’d be terribly offended and hurt if he knew I was talking like this about him. He trusts me.’
    ‘Evelyn, I’ve given you my advice. It’s up to you to persuade Tom to take it.